


May I Have This Dance?

by ScaryFairy13



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Slow Dancing, Wedding(Not Sherlock's and John's)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaryFairy13/pseuds/ScaryFairy13
Summary: John drags Sherlock to Greg's and Molly's wedding.  Dancing ensues as well as the discovery of certain sentimental feelings.





	May I Have This Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> I am actually obsessed with these two dancing so I decided to make a fic!

If there was one thing Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, hated more than dealing with Anderson’s idiotic deductions, it would have to be social events. Said detective was drumming his fingers in annoyance as he bitterly stared at the wedding guests flouncing about the floor, trying to keep in tempo with the music. Sherlock scowled at the guests, mostly his flatmate who was dancing in possibly the most horrendous way he had _ever_ seen anyone dance in. He had a grin plastered on his face as he twirled and swayed among the other guests, most likely spouting nonsense and discussing the repulsive sentimental values of a wedding. The man had decided to drag him along to Molly and… what was his name? Graham? Gavin? Geoff? Oh whatever! It was irritating and grating on his last nerve as he was forced to watch the newlyweds parade around in happiness.

“Stupid John… ridiculous wedding…” Sherlock grumbled lowly, brooding as he pushed the half-empty wine glass about with his finger.

* * *

  
_“We’re going, Sherlock.” The doctor huffed, fixing his bowtie in the mirror above their fireplace._

_“They are our friends and it is the right thing to do.” John said with finality, turning to face the detective with his hands on his hips. He had a disapproving face as he glared down at the man who was laying on the couch, most likely rumpling his suit, with his fingers steepled under his chin and eyes closed._

_“But John…” Sherlock opened his eyes to glance up at the dark blue orbs of the somewhat peeved army doctor._

_“I do not want to go.” The male answered simply, closing his eyes once more as he resumed his ‘thinking position’. John’s eye twitched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, silently counting to ten, trying not become cross with the detective._

_“Well too bad, you’re going.” John bit out through his teeth. Sherlock sprung up from the sofa before he strode to the doctor, standing a little to close for comfort in John’s opinion. He remained silent for a moment, eyes darting about the mildly annoyed army doctor’s frame. The shorter male rolled his eyes at the man’s disheveled appearance before he reached up to tie his bowtie, which the detective had left undone._

_“I’ll give you next week’s lottery numbers.” The detective tried reasoning, staring down at John as he fumbled with the tie._

_“We’re. Going.” The doctor stated as he finished the tie, smiling up at Sherlock with a cheeky grin as he patted his arm, knowing he had won, before walking past him and to the door. The detective stood still for a moment before sighing a bit dramatically and followed John out of the flat and down to the street to hail a cab._

* * *

  
The detective groaned loudly as he listened to the music change to something just a annoying, the chatter of the dancing crowd only growing louder. Most of the guests were dancing, the few reclusive or tired were located amongst the tables, flickering candles creating a dim lighting which hid them in the shadows. Lost in his own thoughts, Sherlock had forgotten he wasn’t alone at the table and it would take the light laughter of his landlady to stir him from his mind.

“What. What is it?” Sherlock sneered as he looked at the laughing woman.

“Oh Sherlock, you look as if John threw away one of your experiments, like the one with the mold in the jam.” Mrs. Hudson grinned at the detective who in return just raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you mean.” He huffed before looking back to the dance floor, absentmindedly focusing on the army doctor. The woman followed the male’s eyes, grin widening as she found who he was so intently watching. She would remain silent, the song eventually changed and the group began to pair off, the shorter of ‘her boys’ scanning the crowd as he was left between the dancing bodies of couples, long-term and those who had just met. His face fell slightly as he glanced once more before slowly walking back towards the tables, melting into the darkness to join those cloistered and alone.

“Poor John.” Mrs. Hudson stated with nonchalant sigh. Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed before looking towards the woman.

“What do you mean?” He asked in confusion before his eyes flashed back to the doctor, scanning the man to look for anything wrong.

“He has no one to dance with… Such a sad sight.” She frowned slightly as he approached, glancing to the detective to see if he acted. Sherlock continued to stare at the downcast male, tapping his fingers against the tablecloth before he jumped up and careened towards the army doctor, flattening his suit as he neared the man. John stopped as he nearly ran into the detective, looking up at the expressionless man. Sherlock stood silent before clearing his throat and holding his hand out to the shorter male, John’s eyes widening a fraction.

“If you wouldn’t mind…” The detective’s eyes met the doctor’s, causing the latter’s heart to miss a beat.

“Would you like to dance?” Sherlock kept his hand outreached as he waited for John’s answer, already having thought of around 12 responses to being rejected. The doctor looked between the hand and the detective’s face before opening his mouth, deciding on whether to accept as he found it suddenly harder to create words. Instead he snapped his mouth shut and slowly placed his hand into Sherlock’s, a sudden electric current shooting down his spine. He wondered if it was just him or if the rest of the room felt it but, his thoughts were soon shut off as he was pulled towards the rest of the dancers. Behind the two, their landlady beamed as they strode away.

“Since you decided to drag me to this insufferable event, I do believe I deserve to be the one to lead.” The detective stated with a small smirk as he shifted his grip on the doctor’s hand, his other hand moving to rest on John’s shoulder blade. The army doctor sputtered as he tried to argue that he could lead but was swiftly shut down as the hands rested on him. The song was slowly becoming hushed, a silence following before a new song started, this time much more slow. John swallowed heavily as the detective began to move, the shorter stumbling as he tried to follow. He squeaked out an apology as he stepped on the man’s foot, Sherlock physically wincing.

“It’s fine. Relax, there is no need to be nervous.” The detective tried calming the man who was slowly going pink in the face from stepping on his partner’s foot. John nodded as he focused on his steps, a small smile growing on Sherlock’s face as he watched his flatmate concentrate on his feet.

“You see the man in the purple suit to my left? Balding slightly, his right ear is about a forth of an inch higher than his left.” The detective leaned closer to whisper to John.

“Yeah, what about him?” The doctor responded, taking quick glances at the man as they moved.

“Geoff’s brother, he works for a bakery. Dry hands from the flour, burns from the ovens. He has a happy lifestyle and enjoys his job. Baked bread today, dough is caked under his fingernails and there is a spot of flour on the side of his neck… He also has a strange obsession with felt hats, possibly due to his balding head.” Sherlock made a smug face as he finished his deductions before looking down at the doctor who was currently snorting as he tried to stifle his laughter.

“Amazing, brilliant as always.” John praised, grinning up at the detective.

“His name is Greg, by the way.” The doctor corrected, Sherlock waving his hand as he dismissed the correction.

“Unimportant.” The detective answered before returning his hand to the male’s shoulder. He slowly smiled down at the army doctor.

“You dance perfectly fine when you aren’t stressed about tripping.” Sherlock stated before suddenly spinning the doctor around in a circle, the male yelping in surprise as he grabbed the detective’s shoulder when he was held in the normal dance position once more.

“You git!” John tried to look angry but, the smile on his face said otherwise. The detective chuckled as he lead the man through the dance, the duo unaware of the eyes of their friends. Their movements slowly lead them closer together, a small space between the two as they continued to dance through the songs, not paying them any attention. Sherlock’s hand slowly slipped to the middle of the doctor’s back, pulling them closer as they swept across floor, eyes locking as the room seemed to go silent.

The detective’s mind was filled with thoughts of John, always John. His smile that could light the darkest of rooms. His ocean blue eyes that stirred something in his chest like a storm upon the sea. His sandy hair that glowed a golden color when the sun hit it just perfectly. His fluffy jumpers that didn’t seem as ugly as before and seemed to be just so… John. The tea that was always steeped perfectly and warmed him from even the tiniest of sips. The man he believed to be so ordinary but was actually the furthest thing from it.

Sherlock slowly pulled the male closer, heart staggering as he heard the latter let out a quiet puff of air that almost sounded like a gasp. The doctor slowly rested his head against the detective’s chest, breathing out short puffs of air into the man’s dark coat and crisp, white shirt. Sherlock slowly moved his hand from the doctor’s hand to his cheek, cupping it as he slowly lifted John’s head to gaze into his ocean orbs. The detective swallowed thickly, cheekbones tinted a light rose pink as he looked down at the doctor’s face, which was glowing a soft red. Foreheads touched as Sherlock slowly leaned his head down, John meeting him halfway. The detective’s eyes slipped shut as he inhaled, their tea from the morning mixed with the sweet biscuits from Mrs. Hudson, a hint of cinnamon sneaking in, flooding his senses. He slowly opened his eyes to be met with John’s once more before he pushed down, mind turning to static as his fingertips sparked. The doctor’s lips were slightly chapped from the cold, London air but were soft in a way that made him never want to part from them and warm like the tea he would find sitting next to him when he left his mind palace. Sherlock tilted his head as he tried moving closer, seeking more of this feeling. Somewhere, his mind was cataloguing every sense, feel, and emotion that rushed through him. John’s arms found their way around the man’s neck as he leaned up, trying to keep their connection.

It would be the doctor who pulled back first, panting for air as he continued to look up at the detective. Sherlock would chase after his lips, forgetting he needed to breath as well. John in turn turned his head to the side, the detective’s lips touching his cheek instead. The army doctor let out a breathy laugh as Sherlock pouted slightly from missing his target. After a moment of catching their breath, the detective would slowly move to press his lips to the doctor’s once more but was stopped when John gasped.

“Wait! There are other people here!” The shorter male said as he remembered they were in public, putting his fingertips up to the detective’s lips that had been closing in on him moments before. Glancing around, Sherlock wouldn’t pay much attention to the wide, knowing grins on their friends faces and instead swiftly moved the doctor’s hand away before pushing his lips to the man’s once more, this time almost with urgency.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it happening again, it seems they have been waiting for this…” The detective stated, pulling back just far enough to get the words out before crashing his lips back to the doctor’s. John sighed against the man’s lips before he returned with the soft press of his own lips. When they broke apart once more, needing air, Sherlock gently took the army doctor’s hand before he pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles, the charming gesture causing John’s heart to skip a beat.

“Although I do not like to admit it…” Sherlock mumbled against the man’s skin, the hand still pressed to his lips before he moved to press it against his own cheek, cradling the doctor’s hand to his sharp cheekbones.

“I am glad you made me come here.” The detective turned his head to the side to press a kiss to the doctor’s palm as if to thank him. John smiled sheepishly up at the man before he gently pulled him down and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s, to which the detective happily returned.

 

_Congratulations on your coupling with Doctor Watson._  
_\- MH_

 

The message was missed, the younger Holmes’ phone left on the table which was now left empty, no longer the darkened corner the solitary crept to. Mrs. Hudson having long ago joined the other dancing guests to keep a close eye on her Baker Street Boys. The slow music ended and the room went silent before a sudden, upbeat song came on.

“May I have this dance?” Sherlock smirked, holding his hand out once more to the doctor who this time eagerly took it before being swept away, laughing as the detective matched his dancing with John’s own moves, which still hadn’t improved over the course of the night.


End file.
